


After The Fight

by durgasdragon



Series: After the War [3]
Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-18
Updated: 2011-02-18
Packaged: 2017-10-15 18:26:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/163627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/durgasdragon/pseuds/durgasdragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seifer’s itching for a fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After The Fight

**Author's Note:**

> Third in a series

  
  
**After The Fight**   
  


_Disclaimer: This is a purely fan-made piece that is using the world and characters from Squaresoft’s (Square Enix)_ Final Fantasy VIII _and is made entirely for enjoyment. No financial gain has been made in the making of this piece_

 _Summary: Seifer’s itching for a fight._

 _Author’s Note: Sequel to ‘Late Night Training’, but can be read alone. Possible out-of-characterness_

 _Constructive Criticism is always welcomed_

 _Published: 24 March 2009_

 _Rating: T_

Zell and Raijin were at it _again_.

It was disgusting, really. Who honestly cared about _Goodbye Pupurun_ or whatever the damn thing was called?

This also led to the question of what the fuck was Zell doing at their table, _anyway_. And why was he _still_ there?

Seifer glared at the two of them. It was enough to put him off of his lunch. Why did he let them sit at his table, again?

Fujin kicked him sharply under the table.

He tried not to wince too visibly. Right, _that_ would be it. Fujin thought that Zell did him some good. Where she got such a harebrained idea, he didn’t know, but since she had taken to kicking him, he didn’t question it. Not to her face, at least.

Seifer slouched back in his chair. Now _everyone_ thought he was Zell’s friend because the dumb cluck had started sitting at his lunch table as much as he sat at Mr Princess and co.’s table. And it didn’t help that Raijin hit it off with him so now Seifer had _two_ people to annoy the heck out of him, especially since the huge lumbering lunkhead _kept_ inviting Zell to tag along.

Zell was laughing and he turned slightly so he could give Seifer a big grin, like he thought that Seifer _wanted_ to a part of whatever _idiocy_ that he and Raijin were discussing. He gave Zell a nasty look, but the little blond seemed unfazed.

Revolted, he shoved his plate away. Maybe he could give his guards the slip and hide out in his dorm room or something.

“Hey, hey, Seif!” Zell practically bounced in his seat. “Are you finished wit’ that? Can I have th’ hot dogs you didn’t eat?”

“Sure!” Raijin shoved the tray over towards the hyperactive blond before Seifer could say anything. “Can’t let it go to waste, ya know?”

“Ah, man, Seif, you’re th’ _best_!” Zell seemed oblivious to the fact that Seifer hadn’t said a single thing.

He was going to yank the tray back, just to see what the stupid Chicken Wuss would say to _that_ , but then Fujin glared at him, single eye promising extreme pain if he tried anything.

That did it. Seifer was _not_ going to sit around and put up with _this_. He shoved his chair back and stormed out, hearing his guards scrambling after him, yelling obscenities because they still were eating or some such shit; he didn’t stick around to listen to them.

He could see the furtive glances the stupid underclassmen threw him as he stalked by and he wondered how long it would before one of them finally grew a pair and picked a fight with him. He was sick of all the goddamn _pussyfooting_ around him.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” One of his more obnoxious guards hollered at him. “You have class next and that’s that way!”

 _Arrogant little Headmaster Princess-wannabe_. “I’m taking the long way because you looked like you could use the exercise, Piggy Fatso.”

Ah, how he delighted in the shades of fuchsia that his guards’ faces could reach. “Watch your mouth!” The other guard snapped crossly.

Seifer smirked. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Prince Chihuahua,” he said, loving how her perfectly made-up face started to match her companion’s, “I _didn’t_ mean to insult you or Piggy Fatso here. Will you ever forgive me?”

Her immaculately done eyes narrowed so much that the purply eye shadow disappeared completely behind her fake eyelashes. “This is your _last_ warning, Almasy! Once more, and you’ll get a demerit!”

“Yeah? And where do you think one will come from? You?” Seifer snorted derisively. “You can’t even spell your own name, much less write it out. In fact, I’ll bet the only pencil you ever touch is the one you use to make your lips look fat and your eyes bruised every morning.”

He felt vindicated when the round guard wasn’t quite good enough to stop the small snort of laughter. As the plastic guard spun on him, Seifer felt almost normal.

He loved sowing seeds of dissent among his so-called guards. It was almost like the old days. The only thing that would have made it better was if he could punch them.

He smirked slightly. Maybe, if he played his cards right, he’d get the chance.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Squall glared at him.

Quistis was tapping her foot disapprovingly at him, but her pale eyes held worry and the ever present insecurity, though it was much fainter than it had been in the pre-war days. It no longer draped itself over her like a blanket, but now clung to her like a mist.

Squall glared at him harder.

Seifer smirked—or at least, tried to. It seemed that his jaw and his cheek hadn’t healed completely yet. “What, no flowers?”

“You put three students into the Infirmary,” Squall stated, ignoring Seifer’s comment. “And we had to treat seven others.”

“What were you _thinking_?” Quistis scolded. “You can’t just go beating up the people who are protecting you!”

“You do know that our investors aren’t going to be happy about this. Especially after I spent all that time arguing to get you to stay here.”

“You didn’t do shit other than sign your name to get me here.” It was time to clear the air a little bit. Seifer shifted the compress so he could glower at them with both of his eyes. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t see out of one of them right now; what _mattered_ was that they know where he stood. “And let’s get the facts straight about this whole little incident. Prince Chihuahua threw the first punch. After that, it became a bit of a free-for-all, with _everyone_ else involved. I only fuckin’ defended myself.”

“You egged your guards so they _would_ start a fight.” Quistis, it seemed, was going to try to pull her authority card on him. “And that kind of behaviour is unacceptable.”

“And ganging up on me is?” Seifer shot back. “I fuckin’ don’t care if they want to punch my face in, but when it’s a crowd against one, yeah, I’m going to use a shit-ton of force!” He stood up, ignoring the pain in his legs and back. “Fuck this. I’m not sitting around listening to you guys pin this all back on me.”

He stormed out and didn’t let himself try to smirk until he was well outside of the Infirmary.

That went better than he expected it to go. He played a very good victim. Betcha that Quistis was feeling guilty and would be pulling a nice trip on Squall right now.

He’d have to do this again.

xXxXxXxXxXx

He gingerly flopped back on to his bed. He wanted to slam his door shut behind him, but part of his recent punishment included the only time he could shut a door was when he was pissing or showering in the bathroom in common space he shared with Fujin and Raijin. In theory, this was to shame him into behaving better.

In reality, all it meant was that he was going to have to be more careful about sneaking out when he trained. It wasn’t like he had any privacy to begin with, so it was just one more thing to add to the list.

Really, who did they think they were punishing? It was an annoyance, definitely, but not a _punishment_.

He tossed his less battered arm over his eyes and waited for the pain killers to come up and kick his sense of reality across the room.

He wasn’t sure how long he lay there when he heard that annoying voice asking his guards if he was in. Gods, was he _blind_ as well as annoying?

“He’s in, but I don’t know why you’d want to bother him.” One of his guards muttered.

“Seifer is my friend,” the Chicken Wuss said with great dignity. “An’ I wanna see how he’s doin’ after they beat him up like that.”

“Beat him…he threw four people over the rails into the fountain right after he broke three other people’s noses!”

“He was defendin’ himself!” Zell said hotly. “I’d like to see _you_ not hurt other people when you got twenty people attackin’ you at once!”

Seifer tried to smirk under his arm. It sounded like the rumours were doing their job; it had been more like ten people, but at this rate, he was going have stood up to the entire school trying to kill him by tomorrow morning.

“He still goaded them into it,” the other guard pointed out dryly. “So it’s not entirely like he’s the only wounded party here.”

“Seifer says dumb shit all th’ time”—oh, that was rich, _especially_ since it was coming from that moronic cluck—“an’ you can’t jus’ up an’ try to punch him ev’ry time he does it! You gotta ignore what he says an’ watch what he _does_!”

He almost yanked his arm down so he could yell at the idiot, but something in the Chicken’s voice made him pause.

Maybe the pain meds were finally doing their thing.

“You mean like when he trying to break innocent people’s heads?” The dry guard asked sardonically.

“Seif’s saved my _life_!” Zell hissed. “An’ he’s done all sorts of stuff to let me kno’ that th’ stuff comin’ out of his mouth is jus’ verbal diarrhoea!”

“Dude, you were his favourite punching bag for _years_ before the War! You call _that_ friendship?!”

“He only punched me a few times! He didn’t do it much ‘cuz I could kick his ass, even back then! ‘Nyhow,” the dumb cluck continued with a disgusting show of loyalty, “that was _then_ an’ this is _now_. He likes hangin’ out wit’ me; he told me so!”

“I doubt _that_.”

“If he did, it was only so he could make fun of you later.” The spastic guard snorted.

“He told me that before he thought we were gunna die! You don’t lie when you think you’re gunna kick it!”

Seifer wondered how all the hell Chicken Wuss got ‘I like hanging out with you’ from ‘I don’t hate you’.

…Then again, he wasn’t all sure he really wanted to know. He might sprain his brain trying to figure that one out.

“ANYHOW,” the moron was saying loudly, “it don’t matter what _you_ think, ‘cuz Seif’s th’ one who’s a mess right now an’ _you_ ain’t!” With that, Zell stormed into Seifer’s room.

Seifer could almost _hear_ Zell cringing as he realised that he’d been loud and Seifer looked like he was sleeping. He almost smirked, but then he’d have deal with the Wuss and possibly acknowledge that he heard what the dumbo had said about him. Neither sounded like options that he wanted to explore, so he left his arm over his eyes and kept his breathing regular and slow.

“Sorry,” he heard the Chicken whisper and battle-worn fingers ghosting over his hair.

What the fuck? _Why_ was Zell petting him?

The hand pulled away and Seifer felt relief set in. He didn’t know what the hell Zell had just done or why, but he better not touch Seifer again. Not if he knew what was good for him.

He heard the idiot shuffle around and move a chair, and then mostly silence. He entertained the idea of ‘waking up’ and yelling at the dipshit, but since the world seemed to take on a surreal bent recently, he decided that maybe he’d better not. Best to let reality go away and perhaps when it came back, things would be the way they _should_ be.

xXxXxXxXxXx

When Seifer came back to a state of reality, the first thing he noticed was the pain. Fuck painkillers and fuck what the stupid Princess Haedmaster said, he was going to down a potion or three.

He slowly rolled to his side so he could swing his legs out over the side of his bed with the minimal amount of movement needed. He froze when he saw that his chair was not in its correct place by his desk; instead, it was pulled close to his bed. Goddamn it, couldn’t people put his stuff _back_? He kicked it slightly, but since to move it back into its proper place made him hurt even more, he decided that it could stay where it was for now. He’d fix it for real once he didn’t feel like a heard of ochus had trampled him.

Slowly, he shuffled over to where he had a secret stash of potions. Unfortunately, it appeared they weren’t as secret as he hoped they were. Meant he was going to have to find another spot, and he was going to have to get more potions. Fujin and Raijin were always out to help, but people were so convinced that all his friends did was buy him potions, it was a little hard some days.

He was going to hit them up for some, anyhow.

Fuck, but he was sore.

“Hey, man,” Raijin greeted him loudly as he slowly dragged himself into the room. “Wasn’t sure when you were gonna be up an’ movin’, dotchano!”

“BETTER?” Fujin looked up from the magazine she was studying.

“No, hurt like fuckin’ hell.” He eased himself down on a stool and ignored the guards who were glaring at him. He made a small gesture that he knew that his friends would understand.

Fujin gave him a sympathetic look and lowered her voice. “TOOK. HAVE NONE.”

“Totally cleared us out, ya know? Seemed ta think we’re a private pharmacy for you or somethin’ an’ we got nuthin’ better ta do.”

Seifer almost sighed, but since he wasn’t that type, he only sneered. It looked like he was going to have to suck it up for the night until the morning pills were dispensed. He’d gone for more than a day without a potion or healing magic during the war—especially towards the end when supplies had been scarce—but he wasn’t keen on doing it again.

“FOOD?” Fujin offered, using a normal tone of voice again.

If he didn’t have an image to keep up, he’d said no. But with the damn guards spying on his every movement, he had a certain role he had to play. “Sure, what do you have?”

“We’ve got—”

“Hey, guys! I’m back and I’ve—Seif! You’re up! How’re you feeling?”

What the fuck was _he_ doing here?

Seifer glared, but Zell ignored him and bounced in, carrying a drink caddy.

“I brought things to drink! An’ I brought Mr Fugly”—here he grinned at Seifer—“somethin’ special!”

Seifer glared.

Zell plopped in the seat next to his and thrust something at him.

Seifer stared at it. It looked like a smoothie machine had puked into a cup. “I don’t think so.”

“It’s filled wit’ stuff to make you feel better!” The Wuss winked at him when he said that, like he was trying to communicate something to someone.

Seifer poked it. Things sloshed in ways that nothing edible should. “No.”

Fujin glared at him.

He glared back. He wasn’t going to touch the stuff on principle alone. No way he had sunk so low that—

Fujin’s foot didn’t kick him, but it certainly found a tender spot and _pressed_.

Goddamn it, who died and made _her_ the leader?

Seifer took a suspicious sip only because it made Fujin pull her foot back and _not_ because he was doing anything for that annoying Over-Active Brat. He nearly started when he felt the familiar healing tingle of a potion start to seep through his veins. Sharply, he looked over at Chicken Wuss.

The bouncy annoyance gave him a large grin.

Only after the smile faltered a little did Seifer down the entire cup. He then tossed it in the general direction of the Wuss. “Next time, don’t be such a dumbass and use less bananas and more blueberries.”

Zell blinked before a big smile bloomed over his face. “I ain’t gonna blow all my money on blueberries just ‘cuz you like them! You’re gonna just have to live wit’ it!” He glanced over at Fujin and Raijin. “Whiny bastard, ain’t he?”

Seifer rolled his eyes, already feeling the worst of the pain vanishing and leaving a dull ache behind. “Whatever, Chicken Wuss. Go away.”

“Nice try!” The dumbass laughed at him, then proceeded to a huge nuisance of himself with Raijin.

Fujin sat back, a slightly smug smirk on her face. Seifer glared at her, but she did nothing to shut up the two loud annoyances that were making a racket.

After fifteen minutes, Seifer was sick of the noise and he decided if he went to bed, maybe the morons would take the hint and SHUT THE FUCK UP.

And he most certainly was _not_ going because the day had tired him out or he wanted to sleep off some of the residual pain; Seifer wasn’t some stupid, pathetic, little cry-baby who couldn’t take a little discomfort.

“LEAVING ALREADY?” Fujin asked, looking like she might _make_ Seifer sit back down again.

“The moronic twins are giving me a headache.”

From the way she nodded her head, he knew she understood.

Zell and Raijin both had abashed expressions on their faces. “Sorry, ya know?”

“Hey, I’ll bring you another smoothie tomorrow, okay?” Zell called out to Seifer’s back.

Seifer flipped Zell off, and heard the tattooed blond cheerfully announce what a jackass he was.

As he gingerly flopped down on his bed, he reflected on the evening. The potion in the smoothie wasn’t anything he had expected, and it was move that almost seemed to clever to have come from the Wuss. Fujin might have a point; there might be some use for the dumbass after all.

Maybe he’d let Zell hang around just little bit longer.

  
_x Fin x_   



End file.
